In the Land of Make Believe where most writers live, this might be even harder. Along the way we get site tracked by beautiful maidens, princes on white horses and drunken mad men. When we have the wall of the castle in sight suddenly a dragon with seven heads appears and we are forced to fight with the little weapons we have. Already half dead from hunger and other battles we've fought along the way, we sit down and weep. These are both frustration and confusion tears. Have we missed an exit. At night in our make shift tent an oil lamp spreads its light over our wrinkled map. Some parts of the map we can't see any longer, because we have spilt tea over it. To see better I lean forward. I'm unaware that the lamp falls over and before this sentence is typed the tent is one big blaze. Nothing can save the tent, never mind the map, I realise now I've left the map to success on the kitchen table at home.
I must find my way back and water the plants. I've put some seeds to germinated in a tray, in the hope they grow into use full promotion sources. But if I don't tend to them and nurse them, we don't get anywhere. Better to have one tray of seeds then a greenhouse where the weeds have taken over. Yes if you like me a one person show, you need to divide yourself into several parts.
Any one for a piece of cake? Click here for something to enjoy it with.
